And that was that—there was no turning back now. What was done was done. Changed forever. And it only took a handful of minutes to do it… no, we'll never be the same now… right?       

           Taemin couldn’t help but stare at him while he was sleeping. He looked like a frog sometimes, it was true. Especially now, for some reason—his mouth slightly ajar and head sunk deep into the pillow. Minho still had his arm around Taemin’s shoulders, even though he’d been lying on it all night, no doubt causing his arm to fall asleep. There was a small stream of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth; Taemin thought it cute, actually, and very carefully wiped it dry without waking him.

           “What are we doing, Minho-ah?” he muttered to himself, aware that Minho was too far gone to answer him. It was a question he asked through a cracked smile, however; whatever they were doing, Taemin liked it. Preferred it. Wanted nothing more in that moment than to the sweat off his lover’s neck with an adventurous tongue—which he immediately did as the urge came to him.

            As a result, Minho soon woke to find the maknae crawling over him, his mouth eagerly at his olive skin. The sensations took him aback only briefly, and he cupped his hands around Taemin’s lean arms so that he could look into his eyes and say, “What are you doing, Minnie?”

            “What do you think I’m doing?”

            He sniffed sleepily and only half-aware. “I never realized you were this way…”

             It wasn’t something Taemin bothered to dignify with an answer, although he was thinking to himself that had Minho known—or at least, stopped to notice—perhaps he would have refrained from sleeping around so much. But he didn’t dare say that now. Not when everything was so perfect. “Don’t you know I’m going to want it all the time?” he hissed seductively.

             Minho was still having a hard time waking up. Honestly, the younger had worn him out. But he didn’t want to say this anymore than Taemin wanted to say the secret things on his mind.

             Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, followed by Kibum’s voice screeching from the other side: “Rise and shine, you freaking erts! You’ve been in there for two days!!”

             Taemin looked confused. “Two days?”

             “He’s just overacting,” Minho yawned. It was normal, after all, for Key to exaggerate even simple things.

             “Oh, but I’m not ready to leave this room yet…”

             “Er… we better go, though. You know how he gets when we miss breakfast…”

             “But, Minho-ah…” Tae was now running his hands over Minho’s hard chest, all the way down to his navel until he hit that sensitive southern spot that caused its owner to bolt awake. “I want to play some more…”

             “T-Taeminnie…” he tried to respond, his words jumbled into a frantic mess.

             “I want cream for breakfast, baby. You know I like my milk…”

             “Taemin!”

             “Hm?”

             But Minho couldn’t answer anymore than Taemin could fully talk now—not with his mouth full the way it was at the moment, that wet tight cave of his bent on readying Min to a state of indomitable hardness. And perhaps any other morning this would have been easy; any other morning, he would have woken up hard to begin with. But Taemin had drained him dry already; Minho had ed him twice—and after a long interval of teasing torture which only made his body shut down that much more. He’d been fending off the threat of a mean case of blue-balls, which thankfully he’d averted, but now his body was entirely too tired from all the waiting and the double release that he knew he’d need at least until night to recharge. But he had himself a on his hands—and a rather feral one at that. And where Taemin was a wakened, fully charged newbie ready to play, Minho suddenly felt like an over-experienced tired old man in comparison. And it was for this reason that he was thankful for Key’s interruption; he could use it as a justified scapegoat to fend off his young lover’s advances just a little more…

              “T-taemin, let’s wait until tonight, neh? Kibum’s—he’s… ah!”

              Taemin only a little faster through the protest. But Minho’s body refused to comply, so he eventually slackened his hold again.

               “I’m sorry, baby… we really should go though. Okay?”

               The maknae looked overly disappointed. “Okay. Fine.”

               “Don’t be upset,” he winked. “All the time in the world, remember?”

               “I have a lot of catching up to do…”

               “It’s not a contest or a game…”

               “You wouldn’t think that if our roles were reversed.”

               “Why do you say that?”

               “Because you’re ‘winning.’ As long as you’re winning, you’re happy.”

               “As long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” he corrected.

               Taemin smiled, then sniffed in defeat. “I’m—I’m kinda scared to see them though,” he added softly. “I don’t know what they’re gonna think… what they’re gonna say…”

              “Why would you be worried over it? They obviously support it, since they went to so much trouble to set us up.”

              “But…” Taemin’s cheeks flushed a little. “It’s… they all know what we did. It’s embarrassing.”

               Minho chuckled. “You do realize that Jonghyun and Kibum are doing the same thing…”

               He looked both shocked and relieved to hear Minho say this. “I know, right?! I mean… what the hell! I can’t believe it!”

              “You knew about that?”

              “Well… I kinda put it all together.”

              “You’re so clever, Minnie~” he replied proudly, his charismatic smile engaged.

              “Cleverer than you~” Taemin teased back.          

              Minho sat back and thought on it a moment. “Yeah… I’d say so,” he laughed. “You knew about us, after all…”

              “I always knew about ‘us.’ ”

              He became a bit serene then. “Minnie, mianhe…”

              “Hm?”

              “For keeping you waiting so long… mianhe.”

              Taemin smiled softly here, but said nothing, only drew up closer to Minho’s lips so that he could kiss him.

* * *